If he's not--"
But when he came back he was on her side, reluctantly convinced by a
painstaking examination of the possibilities in the old cottage, and by a
man-to-man talk with its owner as to his good faith in promising to carry
out the lessee's requirements.
"Though what in the name of time possesses a stunning girl like that to
come here and shut herself up in Aunt Selina's old rookery, I can't make
out," the landlord, Burns's neighbour, had confessed.
"Possibly she won't shut herself up," Burns had suggested, though he
himself had been unable to discover the mysterious attraction of the
little old house. The garden promised better, he thought. He could
understand her being caught by the forsaken though powerful charm of
that. Doubtless it would furnish backgrounds for her outdoor photography,
which would put to blush any painted screens such as the village
photographers were accustomed to use.
He returned to give Miss Ruston his sanction of her project, and to
receive her half-mocking, wholly grateful acknowledgment.
"And I hope, Dr. Burns," said she, as he took leave of her, his watch in
his left hand as he shook hands with his right, "that you will let me
make that photograph of you, at the very beginning of my stay here."
"With a clump of hollyhocks behind me, or a 'queer old door'?" he
inquired.
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